No One Else's But Yours
by suspensegirlinc
Summary: Post 2x03 - He can't stand the way he feels without her. Before his guard rises up again, there's something he has to say. o/s CB some M-rated material


A/N: Just rewatching some old scenes & CB kept breaking my heart, so I had to write this. They had so many guards up in season 2. *sigh* I know that's the season that made them epic, but it still is really painful to sit through sometimes. *gulp* This starts post-episode, but that same night.

…

She didn't call up to her mistress when he stepped out of the elevator. It was late and there was a possibility Blair was asleep, even though Dorota knew she wasn't. She took one look at Chuck and seriously considered making him leave, considering the havoc he'd caused that day; him, with all his seduction and nasty intentions. But half a breath later and she completely reconsidered. He looked horrible. His vest was unbuttoned, his hair was a mess and his shirt seemed stretched double the width of his neck. While this sort of appearance was not uncommon with Chuck Bass, usually due to his insatiable appetite for sex with strange women, Dorota strangely felt this gnawing tugging inside her that said it wasn't _only_ for a recent lay that he looked so messy and lost. It was for that reason alone that after she took that one look, she turned and walked away in the darkness of the kitchen and further recesses in the house.

Chuck managed to make it up the stairs without creating too much noise. He hadn't prepared what he was going to say, and he was too worn out and broken to put a very strong guard up in front of her. It was clear she was still attracted to him, but who knew if she even still _wanted_ his confession two weeks after she'd requested it? He was fairly positive that she was only drawn to Marcus because of his title and because he was a distraction from _him_. Nevertheless, it was unnerving watching her run into his arms and kiss him the way a princess does at the end of a fairytale. It was like he didn't even exist anymore, and he couldn't stand it. After the two made it down the stairs, he quickly made his escape and flipped through his black book, trying to convince himself that the hot makeout session with Blair in her bedroom in the dark had cured him of his seemingly incurable disease.

He couldn't have been more wrong. Though, this time he didn't try as hard as he had with all the others. He was sick of it and this time he wasn't in denial like he'd been for the whole week before. He needed to be over Blair. He _needed_ to be. But he just couldn't force those feelings to go away. Serena was right. He wasn't over Blair, and using her as some form of "sexual draino" hadn't been smart either.

He hated when his sister was right. Of course he was in love with Blair. He was just too damn scared to admit it in front of her. She had every right to hear it after what he'd done to her, but going out on a limb like that was so risky when no one had ever done that for him and taking down his guard, letting himself be vulnerable and then being rejected would make it even harder to build those walls back up again and survive. He didn't even know if he could do it no matter how much time he had or money he could spend on god knows what. Money doesn't fix everything, even though he'd like to believe it did. Life would be so much simpler if that were the case.

But it would also be very lonely. He couldn't stand to be alone anymore. What he felt when he was with Blair, when they are together, was magically, and didn't care how cheesy that sounded. He wanted her, badly. After the way the day had gone down, he was honestly willing to take the cruel rejection. He could wipe away the feeling with a night full of bottomless glasses of scotch and _hopefully_ some hookers in the morning, though he worried that his little "problem" in that department might still exist. He hoped it wouldn't remain there _forever_.

He stopped in front of her door and knocked lightly. He waited impatiently with fidgeting fingers until she finally came to the door without even bothering to open her mouth and speak before revealing the inside of her room and dropping her jaw in shock at his appearance.

"Chuck."

At first, he was speechless as well, and he was beginning to hurt all over again. Then, though, he took a quick look inside her room, relieved that there was no sign of Marcus. He didn't think there would be, but he'd still contemplated the possibility on the way over, making a mental note that that would be an easy escape.

But Marcus wasn't there.

"What do you want?" she asked, pulling her sheer, silk robe tighter around her slender form and narrowing her eyes. The glare was plain as day and it was clear to him that she'd obviously recovered from the brief "shock" that had overwhelmed her when she opened her door and saw him standing there.

"I need to talk to you," he said, staring dead-panned at her. To be honest, he'd had a million retorts come to him in that instant and none of them had suggested a truce or a love confession. He figured it was just what came natural to him, his built up defense system. But, he'd held his tongue until he found that tiny sliver of shining truth that shone open amidst all the snappy venom and grabbed onto it.

"Why?" she asked, leaning against her doorjamb.

He sighed, realizing the inevitable was about to happen. It was the only way he'd get into her bedroom for a reason having nothing whatsoever to do with seduction, since he knew he could accomplish that again quite easily. She maneuvered around him rather easily, but her door was now all the way open, so he could easily push himself inside before she made her hand back around to the door and shut it in his face.

"Will you just let me in?" He growled, hoping she'd just take the bait. He didn't want to say it. He didn't. It was bad enough he was going to have to put his heart out on his sleeve in the most daring move he'd ever tried, but now he was going to have to change gears completely and _apologize_? It sickened him, but the more decent side of his nature told him deep down he was willing to do anything to get her back.

She blinked. "Tell me why."

He clenched his teeth. "Will you still let me in?"

She narrowed her eyes again. "Only if this isn't another attempt at seduction," she spat angrily. "Which, may I point out, you only succeeded in because I was desperate and horny and Marcus wasn't giving me any."

At first he was irritated, but as soon as he saw the irresistible pout on her face, he realized he'd won a victory, because she'd just confirmed the accusations he'd made to her earlier that she'd point-blank denied.

"But he is now," she quickly slid in, so he couldn't catch her in the admission long enough to claim how weak she was for him.

"Really?" he asked, unconvinced. He slipped his hands in his pockets and decided to have fun with this for awhile. It would give him more courage for when he actually took the plunge.

"Mmhm." She nodded once. "Right after you left," she said cheerily.

He raised his eyebrows. "In the middle of your party?"

She scoffed. "Like you haven't done it."

"You were the host."

She rolled her eyes. "We—" She stopped herself.

"Yes, we were in the midst of that, weren't we?" He smirked, unable to stop himself. "But, as I'm sure you would say if I had proposed that counter, which I'd be planning on doing until you so cleverly decided to switch sides and do it yourself…it was a blackout. You had brought your guests candles and could easily be excused without people becoming suspicious."

She huffed, more irritated than he thought she'd be. "Goodbye, Chuck." She moved back into her room just enough to grab the back of her door and start to close it in his face, but he slipped his foot in between the door and the jamb and pushed back with his hand on the pressing wood. Blair pushed as much as she could, but found his power was greater than her own and just held tightly to the door, glaring at him in the most non-appealing suggestive way she could to get him to leave.

He ground his teeth, hating this war and realizing the truth would come out any moment or he wouldn't get another word in tonight.

"I came here to apologize, _Blair_."

She released her hold on the door entirely, and then she laughed.

"Are you serious?"

He held his breath, waiting for her to continue. He only nodded once.

"Why on earth would you want to apologize?" She mocked him. "You got what you wanted. Or…oh god, this isn't some ploy so you can 'finish what you started' is it?"

"It's not a ploy, Blair."

"Well, then, what is it?" She was clearly unconvinced.

"Exactly what it _sounds_ like."

She scrutinized him so intensely he thought he'd break. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, but he knew she was conflicted, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth or not. Aside from telling her he'd been scared when he abandoned her at the beginning of the summer, he hadn't exactly been forward with anything. He didn't blame her for being hesitant. He did, however, wish she'd make up her mind soon. A cold sweat was starting to consume every inch of skin on his body.

"Alright," she said, deciding it was okay to let him. "But you're not staying long."

He nodded and walked past her into the bedroom, inhaling her scent. It was intoxicating, just as it had been this afternoon, just as it always was when he was around her.

She turned around to face him after she'd shut the door. He was sitting on her bed, but for some reason she didn't feel compelled to accuse him of attempting to seduce her again.

"Well?" she prompted, a little irritated that he'd worked so hard to get into her room but now was apparently incapable of speaking.

"I'm not going to apologize for what happened this afternoon?"

She narrowed her eyebrows and crossed her arms across her chest.

"I thought you said you were going to apologize."

"I am. Sort of."

Her eyes widened. "_Sort of_? I just let you into my room for a _sort of_ planned on apology?"

He stood to his feet. "No. Look, Blair. I just…" he trailed off, giving up. He looked at her hard and tried to piece the words together in his mind but everything had become a blank space. No coherency or intelligence was allowed suddenly, and that was when he knew he was doomed.

"_What_, Chuck? Give me your best excuse, so I can mark at down as the worst one ever right after I kick you out of my room for the most wasted five minutes of my life."

All oxygen was ripped from his body.

"Do you really have genuine feelings for Marcus?"

The question caught her off guard. "Yes," she said a beat later, hoping the silence hadn't been for too long.

He nodded and pursed his lips, seriously considering bolting for the door. He'd gotten his answer, hadn't he? She didn't want him anymore. With his guard down, he didn't have the strength to consider she might be lying.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly, feeling and probably looking as vulnerable as ever. He swore he saw her pale and that the reaction then paralleled onto him.

"Uh…of course," she managed, but it was clear now she was starting to weaken. For some reason that didn't reassure him all that much.

"Why?" he asked, just as softly as before.

She swallowed hard. "He likes me." Quickly, she formed a list in her mind, knowing very well that answer would not be satisfactory to be anybody, especially not a manipulator like Chuck Bass.

"He's sweet. He treats me right. We have fun together..."

"Your feelings have nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that he's a _lord_?"

Her eyes narrowed. "_None_."

The lie was so bad, he instantly felt better.

"Now, is that all?" she asked innocently, suddenly eager to get him out. She was very close to losing control of the face she'd perfected.

"No," he said, his voice low and dangerous, determined.

She blinked, waiting. The innocence she was trying to portray was wavering.

"I need to know," he said, emphasizing each word so she'd see how important this was, "if there's any possible way you could let all of that go."

Her mouth went dry. She swallowed a couple times. "I'd need a lot of convincing," she managed, wrapping her arms around herself and fingering the silk on her robe.

He walked towards her and stopped inches away. He was breathing heavily.

"How much?"

She gulped. "A lot," she whispered.

"I'm not going to kiss you," he told her, though the temptation was eating him alive. "This isn't about seduction."

Her brows furrowed. "Then what is it about? If it's not really an apology and it's not a seduction…" She let the question wander off on its own.

He just stood and stared at her and breathed the same air she breathed.

"Chuck?" she whispered.

"This is hard for me," he finally said, choking on his own fumes.

She looked at him, confused. _What is?_

He took the finally step and held her face in his hands.

"Do you want me anymore?" he asked, his voice desperate and soft.

"Chuck…" she breathed.

"I love you," he said before he could let himself change his mind.

Her eyes widened, but it wasn't in panic or outrage like he'd most feared.

"Whether you want me or not." His hands loosened on her face and then dropped to his sides.

She stared at him for several unending seconds and then her eyes watered, a hopeful glorious smile starting to form on her ruby bow-shaped lips.

She kissed him.

He responded, his mind still a blank slate except for the gushing emotion of joy beyond all measure flowing through him and around him and in her, he hoped. From the response he was getting, it seemed pretty definite. She tasted so sweet and her hands in his hair sent shivers down his spine. When she finally broke away, they were both breathing hard. She leaned her forehead against his, and he'd never felt so warm and so loved as he did in that moment, even if she hadn't said it back.

"I love you too," she murmured.

His smile exploded and his breath was lost again. He picked her up and spun her in a dizzying circle, growing hazy with the sound of her giggles in his ears. When he finally set her down again, they were at the foot of her bed and their momentum was enough to send them crashing straight to the soft duvet.

"Are you mine now? Are you really mine? Can I have you?"

He sounded such like a little boy then that she couldn't help tracing her finger all over the curves of his face and smiling up at him with dazed, wide eyes.

"I was always yours." She pulled his head down and kissed him. "Just not out loud."

His grin was stretched so far across his face he could hardly kiss her, but he managed. The feel of her body against his soon overrode his desire to simply look at her and smile. He need to _feel_ her, everywhere. He needed to sink into her and breathe her in and never, ever let her go.

"So, I can have you?" he asked again, smelling her as if she were the freshest scent of spring after the first endless storm.

"Yes." She bit her bottom lip as his lips descended to her neck and kissed and nibbled. "You can have me. I'm no one else's but yours." She leaned her head against his, more content than she'd been all summer.

His head rose up at that and she blinked, startled.

"No one else's? Not even Marcus?"

She laughed. "Of course not!"

"_Blair_…" he warned. He'd heard this speech before.

"Chuck." She framed his face in her hands, making sure he was focused on only her and what she was saying. "Marcus doesn't mean a thing to me. Not even his title. Not when you love me."

His face softened and he leaned down to kiss her again. Then he nuzzled his face against her throat, half hidden in the covers.

"Let's not cheat this time."

"Hmm?"

"Can you break up with him now?" he asked, his voice muffled against her skin.

She couldn't believe how quiet and unsure and vulnerable he sounded. She pulled his head up to look at her again.

"It's you, Chuck," she said, nodding her head so he'd understand and believe her. "It's _you_."

He looked slightly comforted, but to ally all worries, she slipped out from under him and crossed the room to send Marcus a quick text that they were officially broken up. To prove it, she brought the phone over to Chuck and showed him the message after it'd been sent. The confused response from Marcus was deleted by the brown-haired boy, who then looked for confirmation and satisfaction in Blair's eyes a moment later. They were glittering with delight.

He pulled her down on top of him and kissed her, sucking the life from both of them. It felt like he was flying. She tugged at his shirt and his vest and eventually got them all the way off. Her robe was quickly discarded, as was the flimsy negligee she wore that he took great care in removing from her body. It seemed he loved the way it felt against his fingertips, but she loved more how those warm hands felt against her flat stomach and firm breasts.

She paused at his belt buckle and looked up at him.

"What?" he asked, breathless. His eyes were brilliant with desire.

"Can I assume your little 'problem' has been resolved?" She crooked an eyebrow and smirked.

He laughed and undid the buckle, button and lowered the zipper for her. Then, he shoved her hand down his boxers and watched the blush and heat take over her face.

"What do _you_ think?" he asked huskily.

Her eyes finally met his. "I think we're going to have a _lot_ of fun tonight."

They kissed again and his clothes were off and they were moving further up the bed and crawling all over each other. They said their _I love you_'s again just before they took the plunge, and then after, and then before they drifted off to sleep. And then in the morning, they said it again, and all throughout the day. And forever.

….

A/N: Ohhh, how pretty is this? I feel much better. Lol.


End file.
